


Maybe You Know About Hockey

by Black_Calliope



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Season 2 spoilers, strategical use of dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 04:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Calliope/pseuds/Black_Calliope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe I once ate my morning cereal out of the Stanley cup,” Harvey says, dropping the bomb and already knowing that he’ll win this round too.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Mike snorts. “Well, maybe I- Wait, did you really?” he derails, gaping. Harvey smirks, shooting him a look of pity. The boy is so easy at times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe You Know About Hockey

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil thing inspired by [this gif set](http://hermione.tumblr.com/post/23889070790).
> 
> Since the new season of Suits isn't arriving quickly enough, I was bored and tweeting with some friends and we thought - hold on, in the second last gif is Harvey implying that he once woke up at a hockey player’s home? And then in the last one Mike gets it and he’s like ‘WAIT who did you fuck?’
> 
> And then [veritasst](http://veritasst.tumblr.com/) added fuel to the fire saying that yeah, it was [this guy](http://i567.photobucket.com/albums/ss120/Veritas_st/krisletang.jpg). Hence, this short fic happened.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Maybe I once ate my morning cereal out of the Stanley cup,” Harvey says, dropping the bomb and already knowing that he’ll win this round too.

“Yeah,” Mike snorts. “Well, maybe I- Wait, did you really?” he derails, gaping. Harvey smirks, shooting him a look of pity. The boy is so easy at times.

He turns around, ready to leave, but Mike isn’t yet willing to drop the topic. “Who?” he asks, closing his laptop with a soft  _click_ and placing his palms flat on the cold surface of the desk.

Harvey stops on the spot, quickly considering the pro and the cons of actually replying to Mike’s question. They haven’t really talked about their respective previous lovers and he is unsure of how Mike will react, but maybe-  ”Kris Letang, does it ring any bell?” he says, lightly.

Mike’s jaw drops open. “You didn’t.” His tone edging between amazed and annoyed.

“If you say so,” Harvey deadpans, elegantly shifting the weight of his body from a foot to another, his suit following his movements like a second, very expensive skin.

Mike stays silent for a few moments, lips pursed and eyebrows slightly furrowed. ”So are you going to the game because- what, you have a  _date_?” he eventually asks. And this time Harvey can clearly see jealousy digging its claws into each one of Mike’s words, screeching in the background like rocks on broken glass.

_Oh, boy._  He glances out of the window, following the lazy movements of a cloud before bringing his eyes back on Mike’s face. Red is creeping out of the collar of Mike’s shirt, slowly coloring the pale, tender expanse of his neck’s skin and something purrs content into Harvey’s chest. “Sure,” he smiles, slowly. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, last night. I must have forgotten about it- You know, between when I was fingering you open and when you were begging me to fuck you  _harder_.”

At Harvey’s words, Mike flushes completely red, his eyes darting from Harvey’s to the door of the office and back. It’s a late Saturday morning and both of them know that the office is practically empty, but Mike’s heart must have skipped a beat anyway, instinct kicking in before reason. Harvey observes him in amusement as he tries to regain some composure. “Yeah, well- You have fun,” Mike then mutters, trying to feign indifference but - predictably - failing miserably. “I don’t-“

“Of course you don’t,” Harvey interrupts him, sighing. It takes only a few strides to walk back towards Mike and circle the glass desk. He stops right behind the chair where Mike is sitting, sudden tension visible in the way his spine is set straight, waiting for whatever Harvey is about to do. “Up, come on,” he orders, nudging the back of the chair with his knee.

Mike doesn’t turn to look at him, and Harvey mentally assigns him one point. “What for?” he replies, piqued. “I’m not into  _threesomes_ , sorry.”

Now, he is deliberately trying to be difficult. As if that would work with Harvey. “Neither am I,” he concedes, dragging Mike’s chair a few inches away from the desk. “Now get up,  _whiny_ , before I leave you here all alone.”

There is a chocked sound and then: “Who’s  _whiny_?” Mike retorts, trying to sound extremely offended. Still, he gets up, quickly reordering the papers scattered all over the desk and showing them into his leather shoulder bag. “You must be mistaking me for one of your boy-toys.”

The term makes Harvey giggle.  _Oh, jealousy, what a wonderful thing that it is._ He sets a hand on the back of Mike’s neck, gently pushing him towards the door. “Seriously, you are such high maintenance,” he murmurs against Mike’s ear, crowding him against the glass door.

He feels Mike shiver against him, feels his short intake of breath when Harvey pushes his hips against the round curve of Mike’s ass. “Sure I am,” Mike mutters, a hint of smile curling the angles of his lips upwards.

Harvey smiles in return, presses one kiss over Mike’s bare neck. “We’ll see that tonight,” he says, opening the door, something dark dancing in his tone.

And if there is something sure, that is that Mike will be the only one getting fucked tonight, thank you very much.


End file.
